


Defiance, Allegiance

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Canon, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Role Reversal, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As the son of Duke Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd, heir to the House Blaiddyd, and legatee of the title Lance of Faerghus, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd strived to do what he could to serve the crown. It was difficult, though, when Prince Felix wanted very little to do with him.Role reversal where Felix is the prince of Faerghus.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

House Blaiddyd was lauded for its longstanding loyalty to the crown ever since the founding of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. It was the house that bred many retainers, knights, advisors, and companions to the House Fraldarius. 

Being born as a Blaiddyd, Dimitri was eager to prove his worth that he could inherit his father's title as the Lance of Faerghus and become Prince Glenn's most trusted knight. He trained and studied diligently, adhering to the regimen given to him by his father. The journey to ascension was indeed an arduous one, but Dimitri endeavored to persevere through the struggle. 

While considerably younger than his highness, Dimitri devoted much of his time acting as Prince Glenn's aide. The responsibility of being a retainer would have been more appropriately handled by someone close to Prince Glenn's age - Miklan of House Gautier, for instance; however, the prince had deigned Dimitri best fit for the job, much to Dimitri's eternal delight. 

It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that Dimitri's world more or less revolved around his prince and his duty. 

"Don't you ever get tired of all this?" Prince Felix inquired him one day. The boys were walking outside of the castle, taking a break from their respective studies. 

"Of course not!" Dimitri exclaimed. "It's an honor to be serving your brother, not to mention how it's my birthright to do so."

Prince Felix made a distinctly unprincely face. "But you're always working. Don't you want to do something else? Like play games or spar?"

The second prince was nothing like Prince Glenn. Where Prince Glenn was austere and refined, even dry-witted at times, Prince Felix was soft and playful and, admittedly, was a bit of a crybaby. Perhaps the difference lied due to their ages, but it was apparent that Prince Felix was too sheltered, too meek, to ever become a capable ruler that Prince Glenn was born to be.

Not that Dimitri saw that to be a bad thing. Frankly, he regarded the younger Fraldarius to be quite sweet this way, never mind his regular attempts in pulling Dimitri away from his duties.

The corners of Dimitri's lips tugged upwards without him meaning to. He conceded to his fondness and allowed the smile to stretch broadly across his face. "I believe I have time to spar with you, your highness," Dimitri said. 

Prince Felix perked up at that. "Let's go to the training field, then! I've been meaning to practice my swordsmanship."

* * *

  
"Where you'll be my lance, I'll be the people's shield," Prince Glenn had once told him. "I'll be entrusting my life to you in the future, Dimitri."

Dimitri had taken those words to heart. He had imprinted them in his mind and soul, and had vowed to fulfill his role as his highness's right-hand man just like how his father had been to King Rodrigue. 

But then news of the Tragedy came, and Dimitri's world fell apart. 

King Rodrigue and Prince Glenn had perished in the fire, the whispers and murmurs said, filtering from closed doors to his ears. The two royal figures had been reduced to nothing but bones and ash. Nothing could be found. Not before their killers had gotten to them.

What had supposed to be a diplomatic excursion to Duscur had ended as a slaughter. Who could have perpetrated this act of horror none other than those barbarian Duscurans? Or, at least, that was the general belief passed on from person to person. It didn't take long for that belief to take root, and soon the kingdom was clamoring for vengeance for the loss of their beloved king and prince. The nobles argued that they couldn't allow this insolence to go unpunished. Duscur needed to burn like how their rulers had. 

Prince Felix, however, who had miraculously survived the incident, disagreed.

"If you send our knights to raze down Duscur, I'll cut them down myself," Prince Felix hissed to his uncle. His amber eyes were bright with visceral manic and fury, and he bared his teeth like how a beast would. "I'm telling you that they didn't do it!"

Prince Felix had changed irrevocably since his return. He was no longer the sweet boy who had cried too easily and had clung onto Dimitri whenever he had desired his attention. Prince Felix, after recovering from his blank-eyed state, withdrawn and silent from the devastation he had faced, became like the flames that had consumed his family - impetuous and volatile. If it weren't for the distinctive Fraldarius features, Dimitri would have seen a stranger instead of the prince.

"Felix, you have been vocal about your defense for the Duscurans since your return," the regent, Grand Duke Andreas Elliot Fraldarius, intoned solemnly to his nephew.

Though Dimitri was unfamiliar with the man, he recalled the younger brother of the late king to be of a gentle and thoughtful disposition. The kind of man who Dimitri had once believed Prince Felix would grow up to be like. Now, the man stood before the court as though the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders; meanwhile, Prince Felix moved, breathed, and spoke as though lightning coursed through his veins.

"I will ask you this last time, and I wish for you to answer truthfully - are the people of Duscur responsible for the death of your father, your brother, and the knights who had sworn to defend the crown?" the regent said.

With a dark growl, Prince Felix responded with no hesitation. "No."

The court exploded in an uproar. 

* * *

  
Dimitri remembered the girl from the ball one night, who would later become his close friend until the year later she had to depart. He remembered those times with warm reminiscence - those times where they had played games and danced together. They had been so carefree back then, just like how he and Prince Felix had once been. 

But, now, their relationship was entrenched with the pains and sorrows of the past. Their carefree days were too out of reach to be reconciled again. 

Dimitri, mired by his failure to fulfill his duty to Prince Glenn, pledged to remedy this by swearing fealty to his brother, promising to be his sword and shield, to forever protect him until Dimitri took his final breath. Prince Felix, embittered by the loss of his family and the lofty Faerghun ideals, was disgusted by Dimitri's promise.

Dimitri didn't know what to do with this new Prince Felix. His father had told him that he needed to be patient, that the prince would come around in time. He had thought that he could be just that - patient, but that was before he realized that his position had been unwittingly expropriated by the Duscuran boy who had followed the prince. 

Prince Felix was a confusing mix of protective and scornful when it came to Dedue. Protective because he didn't stand for any insults being directed at Dedue - not for his heritage and not for the notion that the Duscurans had any involvement in the Tragedy. Prince Felix often bristled and snarled at anyone who would look at Dedue wrong. This had nearly caused a rift between Prince Felix and Ingrid, who had initially believed the Duscurans to be guilty until she later received a proper explanation. 

And he was scornful because Prince Felix loathed Dedue's "lapdog subservience," or so his highness would call it. It scandalized Dimitri to hear Felix outright refer Dedue as a dog, and it astonished Dimitri, all the same, to witness Dedue taking every hurled barbed remark with unshakable composure and dignity. Their relationship was bizarre, seeing the duality of the prince's treatment towards the older boy. Did the prince only tolerate Dedue being maligned if he was the one to do it?

In a fit of bafflement, Dimitri inquired Dedue why he endured the prince's sharp words.

"He isn't supercilious," Dedue said, his voice as placid as his demeanor. "He only wants me to go back home, and he thinks that the only way he can drive me away is to lash out at me."

"So why don't you leave?" Dimitri asked - not because he truly wanted the Duscuran gone, but because he wanted to understand the reason behind his unwavering loyalty. True, Dimitri had been hurt when Prince Felix had settled with Dedue as his retainer over him. Him, who had dedicated years of training and studying to serve the crown. Nonetheless, he wasn't so petty as to begrudge Dedue, especially towards someone who had proven to be a kind person under that stoic persona. 

Dedue stared down at him from his superior height, but not once did Dimitri feel daunted by the large boy. Despite being only a year older than him, there was something discerning about his eyes - something old and knowing. Dimitri could have interpreted it as infinite wisdom, albeit heartache was a better fit for someone who had yet outgrown his adolescence. 

"His highness saved me," Dedue said. "I owe him a life debt."

Dimitri blinked. "I had no idea."

The other boy hummed pensively. "He doesn't want others to know, but it doesn't change the fact that what happened has happened. Regardless of the turmoil that comes between both of our lands or whatever the future may hold, I already made my decision to follow the prince."

And just as Dedue had said, he did just that. For the price that Prince Felix had to pay to keep the Lord Regent from sending out troops, he lost favor of the nobility that supported the invasion. With that, tensions festered, spurring what had been wariness to rancor for the Duscurans. The nobility would stop and stare at Dedue, balefully appraising him as though he was a wild, stupid animal. The servants would give Dedue a wide berth, turning their nose as though they had smelled something foul. 

The prince's favor couldn't save him from the blatant discourtesy. If anything, it exacerbated matters. Prince Felix's reputation had taken a nosedive since his appearance in the court. He had been known as the temperamental prince who would tear into anyone who would dare object him. Libels of his character had morphed him into being a future tyrant, or, as commonly shared among the older aristocrats, a spoiled child who used tantrums to get his way.

An opposing faction was formed as Prince Felix continued to butt heads with the nobles, and the prince was often embroiled in contention. This was a political jungle that Prince Felix obviously had little grace in faring. 

"The future will be rocky, no doubt," his father said. His blue eyes pierced into his own. "What will you do, Dimitri?"

What would he do? Though Dimitri had promised to himself and to Prince Felix that he would give his life to the crown, it had been clear that Prince Felix wanted very little to do with him. He didn't understand why, and Prince Felix wouldn't explain to him the reason. What he did know was that the outright rejection had his heart in a deathly grip. Every time the prince would look at him - to have those amber eyes, once bright and affectionate, now cutting and critical - Dimitri felt a numbing pain within his chest. 

Those eyes were reminders of his childish incompetence, of his dead future. He would never become Prince Glenn's trusted friend and advisor, his knight and protector. He would probably never have the opportunity to become any of those things with Prince Felix either. Dimitri felt as though he was dragging his feet through the mud, trudging through a hopeless and pointless path.

But even so...

But even so...

Prince Felix was all there was left, wasn't he? Where King Rodrigue and Prince Glenn had died in Duscur, the Goddess had allowed Prince Felix's survival. He had lived for a reason.

No matter the ache and no matter the trials, Dimitri believed that this _had to mean something._ And no matter how much Prince Felix would try to push him away, Dimitri vowed to be there by his side in case he would need him.

"What I always do, Father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Dimitri's Uncle Rufus was described to be a womanizer and a poor ruler, Rodrigue had his brother take over his duties while he participated in the war. With that, I headcanon Felix's uncle to be a good and caring uncle, hence a notably better regent than Rufus.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Duscur invasion might not have happened, but there was still a price to pay - Felix's reputation as an edgelord.

It had taken Dedue, Ingrid, and Dimitri's combined efforts to convince Prince Felix to don the customary blue cape. It was tradition, after all, for a house leader to represent himself. Prince Felix wasn't one to care about upholding tradition, but he did finally relent. Of course, not without giving his final complaint about it. 

"Ridiculous," he spat. "There's no reason to get gussied up like this. This is ostentatious."

While Ingrid and Dimitri exchanged long-suffering glances, Sylvain chortled and amicably clapped a hand on the prince's shoulder. "You look great, your highness. Very dashing. I'm sure the ladies will be all over you once they get a good look at you."

Prince Felix shot him a glower.

In Dimitri's honest opinion, Prince Felix wouldn't be considered to be classically handsome - not like how Sylvain was. With his narrow jawline, pert nose, and lithe build, pretty was a more apt descriptor for the prince. 

(Not that Dimitri would ever utter such a thing around Prince Felix. He didn't intend on having an early demise, after all.)

The Fraldarius family shared the distinctive narrow eyes and sharp features, yet, instead of making the prince appear distinguished, those traits made him appear rather feline. Prince Felix was no doubt very cat-like in every regard, especially with his amber eyes. Pretty, Dimitri thought again. 

"I'm sure you'd take care to be diligent with your studies rather than run off with women," Prince Felix sneered. 

Sylvain pouted. "But what if running off with women helps me be studious?" he whined.

"In what world does that make sense?" Dimitri sighed. 

Prince Felix might have agreed to wear the cape, but he resisted putting on the full ensemble. He claimed that he didn't want to look "any more like a stuffy noble with a stick up his ass." Sylvain somehow interpreted that as permission to take off his uniform jacket and unbutton his shirt, which he didn't manage to complete after receiving a furious reprimand from Ingrid. 

So, with great reluctance, the group allowed their prince venture outside with a vest and rolled-up sleeves as his cape hung off his shoulder contrastingly. He might not look like a stuffy noble, but he certainly looked nothing like the prince that he was supposed to be.

Ingrid murmured, "Oh dear." Dimitri echoed the sentiment exactly.

* * *

Concerns of Prince Felix being an unorthodox house leader attenuated when Dimitri had seen and heard about Claude von Reigan, the Golden Deer house leader. 

The heir presumptive to House Reigan of the Leicester Alliance was, in a sense, expedient. Though Dimitri hadn't met him in person, he had observed enough to ascertain that there was a scheming mind beneath that carefree exterior.

Claude had forgone pleasantries and decorum ingrained in every child of high society; instead, he wore a mask designed to mislead, giving everyone the impression that he was simply an insouciant young man with no care for formalities. If it hadn't been for Sylvain who had pointed that out, Dimitri would have been one of the many to fall for his deception. 

Nevertheless, there was some relief in knowing that Prince Felix wasn't the only leader who was disinclined to...abide by rules of convention. 

Dimitri's concerns weren't fully allayed, however, after seeing how Princess Edelgard had held herself. Poised, dignified, graceful - these were the attributes that were expected in royalty, which Princess Edelgard had exemplified and Prince Felix, unfortunately, possessed none.

Admittedly, there was some lingering embarrassment in knowing that the Blue Lions' prince was brutish compared to the Black Eagles' princess. Claude wasn't even a prince, so he couldn't be held to the same standards. 

What further tarnished the prince's reputation was Prince Felix's unfettered tendency of calling Dedue as "Dog." Understandably, this bred misconceptions about Prince Felix - not just from outside the Blue Lions house but within as well. Or, rather, misconceptions that exacerbated what already had been there. 

Their classmates - Annette, Ashe, and Mercedes - more or less expressed their wariness when around the prince. They were very much so stunned by the persistent displays of affection made by Sylvain or Ingrid's unrestrained voiced disapproval. After all, how could anyone be so familiar with his highness without worrying about him biting his or her head off?

These gestures continued to defy their expectations, so it was no surprise that they would one day question it. 

"His highness isn't using a slur against me," Dedue clarified after being approached by Annette and Ashe. 

"So...he's not insulting you when he calls you Dog?" Annette asked, baffled.

"No. It's a nickname," he said with utmost seriousness. Dimitri nearly sputtered into laughter at that declaration. Sylvain certainly didn't withhold his own amusement. 

A week at Garreg Mach was hardly enough to dispel every rumor that were shared among the students, but it did at least give the prince a more preferable impression on their classmates. Sometimes, though, Prince Felix would single-handedly hinder any headway made with his harsh words and piercing glare. This was often a source of distress for Dimitri.

"Your highness, I beg of you," Dimitri implored. "Please mind your tongue! The others will continue to fear you if you don't - "

"Shut up, Dimitri," Prince Felix snapped. He turned away in exasperation. "Ugh. You can be so smothering - more so than Uncle."

Dimitri wilted, abashed. He had been informed many times by the prince of just how overbearing his attentiveness was, yet it seemed that he never learned how to tone it down. Not watching over Prince Felix was simply out of the question, however, even when his highness would rebuff his efforts at every turn. 

Dimitri had attempted to follow Dedue's example since Prince Felix had shown far more forbearance for the Duscuran than he ever had for Dimitri. Although, unlike Dedue, Dimitri couldn't comply with everything that the prince wanted to do. There must be an order to adhere to, and having the prince go off the rails - more so than usual, at that - was not a matter that could go on without protest.

Ingrid, shaped by her strong morals and principles, would occasionally intercept Prince Felix's antics, but there was only so much that she could do. Sylvain was certainly no help at all; instead, he enabled the prince of his bad habits. Therefore, the task of reeling in their unruly prince would fall to Dimitri even at the expense of his favorability (not that he had the prince's favor since the Tragedy).

It was because of Prince Felix's crass personality and the rumors circulating the academy that Dimitri was confounded as to why the new professor had elected to teach the Blue Lions out of all houses. 

When the professor had invited him over for tea, Dimitri seized the opportunity to ask, "What made you choose the Blue Lions, Professor?" 

"Your house leader," was the unexpected answer. At Dimitri's stunned silence, the professor elaborated, "He's honest, unlike Claude or Edelgard."

A bit _too_ honest, came Dimitri's despairing thought. "And that's what you weighed your decision on?" he said dubiously.

"Upon meeting the leaders, I could tell that Claude and Edelgard wished to use me in some way. To help fulfill an agenda, I suppose. Felix, on the other hand, wanted to use me only to hone his swordsmanship. He's single-minded, which I can relate to."

Dimitri didn't know whether he should be offended his prince's behalf or laugh aloud at the apt description. Single-minded indeed.

While entertained by the offhand remark, he didn't stray from the other point in the professor's statement. Claude and Edelgard had an agenda? As future leaders of their respective regions, this notion shouldn't be surprising, but the way the professor had said it set off alarms in his head. 

His mind teemed with more questions, but none of which that the professor would be able to provide an answer to. 

"Also, it was the way he described his classmates," the professor continued. Dimitri blinked in puzzlement. "Did you know? I asked Claude, Edelgard, and Felix for their opinion on each member of their house. It was to help me form an idea as to how each class overall could be."

Dread filled him. He was almost afraid to ask. "And...what did his highness say?"

"He was insulting at first. He drew comparisons between Dedue and dogs, called Ingrid a nag, Sylvain an insatiable skirt-chaser, Ashe a simp with foolish ideals... Well, you get the idea."

He was grateful that the professor didn't tell him what the prince thought about him. He had a vague idea as to what the prince had said, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear about it. "To hear denigrating comments like that would typically deter anyone, Professor, not entice them," Dimitri said dryly. 

"I did say 'at first.'" The professor smiled. "Afterwards, he begrudgingly highlighted their good points. Dedue may be like a dog, but he has a commendable fortitude and discipline that everyone should follow. Ingrid's pursuit of knighthood may be disagreeable to him, but her tenacity will surely bring her many accomplishments. Sylvain is a friend who will always have your back no matter how difficult the challenge may be. Ashe's kindness isn't a weakness to be exploited, but a strength that drives him to great lengths. Things like that."

Dimitri stared. "Are you sure that this was Prince Felix saying these things and not someone else?"

"I'm quite sure," the professor said, eyes glittering with mirth on his impassive face. "Would you like to hear what he said about you?"

Dimitri waffled with indecision before tentatively nodding.

"He said that you were a boar. Or a bore."

"I - pardon?"

"I don't know if he was referring to you as someone pig-like or someone dull; he didn't provide enough context for me to infer from."

The two words echoed in his. He didn't know which one he rather be in the prince's eyes. "I see..."

"He then said that you were a worse nag than Ingrid and a bigger simp than Ashe. You could easily out-dog Dedue if you wanted to."

His shoulders slumped. Perhaps he shouldn't have agreed to listen to this after all.

"But - " Dimitri perked up " - you're very earnest and dedicated, not to mention someone with a big heart. Felix was emphatic on the last point."

Dimitri felt his cheeks grow warm and his chest tighten with elation. "Truly?" 

The professor nodded. 

That was the highest compliment he had ever received from the prince, regardless of how he had received it indirectly. He smiled - he possibly couldn't after what he had heard! - and didn't bother stifling a laugh that bubbled out of him. Earnest, dedicated, and someone with a big heart. To think that Prince Felix thought about him like that...!

When they finished their tea, Dimitri noticed that the professor didn't mention Prince Felix's commentary on their other two classmates. When he brought them up, the professor hummed in response, saying, "Well, he did say that Annette was clumsy and Mercedes a weak fighter, but, other than that, he gave them nothing but praises."

He took a moment to see if he was jealous and found that he couldn't. It probably would be an exaggeration to say, but Annette and Mercedes could do no wrong. 

* * *

It had taken a while, but, eventually, Annette, Ashe, and Mercedes were able to see Prince Felix for who he was instead of what the rumors had made him out to be. Not without any elucidation, naturally.

Was it true that Prince Felix had threatened to kill people if the knights had been deployed to Duscur? Yes, but the part where he had made a bloody demonstration on the court was false. 

Was it true that Prince Felix treated his servants cruelly and wouldn't hesitate to flog any of them if one so much looked at him wrong? No, that was a general belief purported by the aristocratic faction.

Was it true that Prince Felix had been irreparably changed due to the Tragedy? Yes, but wouldn't anyone after being in the midst of its destruction?

Was it true that Prince Felix had perpetrated the Tragedy? Did he form an alliance with Duscurans in secret, hence why he had been so defensive of them? No and no.

It was heartwarming to know that no one in their class believed that the Duscurans were responsible for the Tragedy. Regardless, the canard had gained traction, spurring into what had been accepted with skepticism to what was given more than an inkling of consideration. Prince Felix's ferocity in battle during the Western Rebellion had done nothing to stymie that progression. 

And Prince Felix didn't care.

Someday, Dimitri hoped that Prince Felix would see sense in fixing his behavior. He couldn't possibly rule over a kingdom where the subjects feared him and the nobility objected to his orders. He needed to show everyone that he wasn't a battle-lusting beast incapable of civility.

Yet, as endlessly frustrating as it was, there was some relief in knowing that his highness was a momentous force that wouldn't falter by the thoughts of others. If there was one princely aspect of Prince Felix, it would be his pride. If there would ever come a time where the prince would be forced onto his knees and bow his head before another, Dimitri had the comfort of knowing that his highness would never defer to anyone in spirit. 

That was what Dimitri wished for the others to see. An imperfect prince that he was, but a prince worth following to the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Felix is a cat, Dedue is a dog.  
> But you know who the true dog is? Dimitri, the human-shaped golden retriever.


	3. Chapter 3

House Fraldarius had long boasted their indomitable expertise in weaponry, widely believed to have the ability passed down since the Elite Lady Fraldarius. Because the Fraldarius' Hero's Relic was the Aegis Shield, the royal line had always fought with what complemented the shield. Sometimes that would be the lance; sometimes that would be the sword. The axe would be unconventional, but certainly not unheard of. 

Prince Felix, for all his contempt for tradition, honed and brandished his sword as though it was an extension of himself. His strength and talent could not be denied. He truly was gifted with the blade, and it was inevitable that he would become a master swordsman, whether it be by his own merits or under the professor's tutelage. 

Yet, for whatever reason, Professor Byleth had elected his highness to represent the Blue Lions at the White Heron Cup. The professor wanted Prince Felix to become a _dancer_. 

"This just may be the professor's best idea yet," Sylvain chuckled, drawing out a low whistle when the professor had the prince twirl with flourish. The deep scowl on Prince Felix's face was horribly misplaced with the graceful action. 

Dimitri, on his part, couldn't muster a response that conveyed his agreement or disagreement. For that matter, he didn't even know what to feel about this. Bewildered? Well, that was a fact. 

He imagined how his father would react if he wrote to him about Prince Felix's new designation. The beastly battle-lusting warrior was now playing as a nimble support-role dancer. The man would probably laugh himself to tears - or perhaps he would double-check to see if his son was being serious. Not that Dimitri could tell a joke to save his life, but to write home about this could be a start in his comedy career. That was if any of this really was a joke. 

It wasn't. 

In any case, Prince Felix, for better or worse, was going to represent the Blue Lions. Dimitri wished that he had the confidence to say that his highness would easily secure a win, but the truth was he had none. While ashamed by the dubiety he felt for his prince, Dimitri honestly wasn't able to feel anything else. 

Prince Felix was indeed masterful with his steps, holding himself with a gracefulness that was expected of a swordsman, but the prince was... How to say it? Wild? Dimitri loathed aligning himself with any seditious rumor about his highness; however, this attribute really wasn't all that baseless. The prince _was_ wild. 

Although, it wasn't as if the Blue Lions was filled to the brim with expert dancers. Dimitri, for one, was more inclined to trip over his own feet. 

"How'd you figure that the professor managed to convince him into competing?" Sylvain wondered. 

"Extra sparring matches?" Dimitri guessed. 

The two turned to Dedue for an answer. 

"The professor simply informed his highness that he was chosen, and his highness complied," Dedue said. 

Dimitri and Sylvain traded looks. 

"His highness holds a great deal of respect for the professor. There is no need for favors to be made," he said. Although the Duscuran's tone wasn't chiding, the words imparted might as well conveyed it. Dimitri lowered his head, abashed. Sylvain, on the other hand, snorted. 

"But the favors helped, right?" Sylvain needled. 

Dedue didn't say anything.

From ahead, Prince Felix could be heard swearing at the professor. 

* * *

The competition this year certainly was a daunting one. 

There was Dorothea of the Black Eagles, a singer from the Mittlefrank Opera Company. Though Dimitri was ignorant of the realm of the arts, he had heard that Dorothea was quite renowned for her expert performances, which guaranteed that the girl would put up an exemplary show. 

There was Lorenz of the Golden Deer. His reputation preceded him - a nobleman who only delighted in all things noble. Whether for the better or for worse, this undoubtedly meant that Lorenz had years of dancing experience under his belt. The boy particularly did look like someone who regularly engaged in all matters of pomp and circumstance.

Prince Felix, on the other hand, was neither experienced nor held a shred of his fellow competitors' flair. Dimitri had an idea of how this contest would go, but his numerous well-wishes went towards his highness.

The rest of the Blue Lions whispered excitedly to one another, waiting in anticipation to see their prince take the stage. Annette, in particular, was bouncing on her heels, a wide grin stretching across her face. From what Dimitri had heard, she and Prince Felix had jokingly placed bets on whether or not he would emerge as the winner. Although, Annette appeared to be taking the bet seriously.

"Ah, there he is!" Mercedes said. 

Immediately, all eyes turned to the lone figure sauntering to the center of the ballroom. From above where they peered over the balcony, Prince Felix cut a slight frame. His highness wasn't without any muscle definition, as shown by the toned arches of his calves, the tautness of his shoulders, and the evident strength in his arms. His dedication to the sword manifested as such.

However, despite the...minimal coverings than what a Faerghun would be comfortable with, exposing said muscles, Prince Felix draped in flowy fabrics of white and blue, complemented with silver bangles and trimmings, made him appear... He appeared not as a warrior in a dancer's clothes, but a dancer who held himself as a warrior.

As the music began to flood the space, Prince Felix made his first move by drawing one foot out and slowly carving a half-circle with his toe. With his heel sweeping behind him, he fluidly spun before proceeding with a series of gestures and leaps. 

Dimitri didn't pretend to understand the art of dancing, or any dancing at all outside of functional social gatherings. He knew that people danced for enjoyment, perhaps just as much as he enjoyed practicing with his lance and sparring with his companions, he supposed. He also knew that dancing was a way of expression. But he had never understood the meaning or purpose of how it was supposed to be done. 

Why had the professor so diligently instilled certain movements for the prince to hone, having him practice over and over again until he had executed them perfectly? Why did the prince need to know how to twirl on time and spring when the music climbed to a crescendo? That had been what Dimitri had wondered until he bore witness to Prince Felix dancing on stage.

All the while, a scowl had not marred his features even once.

When the music began to fade to its end, Prince Felix strutted forward a few steps before lowering himself for a bow, his garments floating around him like wings of a swan making its descent. It didn't take long for the audience to break into thunderous applause, the din especially coming from the Blue Lions. 

"So much for saving the best for last," Sylvain remarked, his grin baffled yet delighted.

"That was amazing!" Annette gushed, her eyes bright with awe. 

"To think that he can put the same amount of effort into dancing as he does with swordplay," Ingrid noted.

Yes, indeed. Dimitri couldn't contain his own amazement at the performance that his highness had displayed. He had always thought Prince Felix elegant when fighting, but it was evident that elegance also extended to dancing. 

Despite the many years that they had known each other, it seemed that there was more to the prince that Dimitri didn't know of. 

Prince Felix's fellow contenders put up marvelous dances of their own, yet, in Dimitri's mind, none could compare to his highness's. Was it his bias projecting Dorothea and Lorenz's inadequacies? Had his admiration carried him throughout each performance, thinking about his prince's every time?

Whatever the case might be, the end result revealed itself: the winner of the White Heron Cup was none other than Blue Lions's Prince Felix.

"Congratulations!" burst out Alois gaily. "For putting up a marvelous performance, you have earned the title of being this year's victor!"

A large golden trophy was passed over to Prince Felix, who accepted the prize with awkward reluctance. He stared at the object before turning his blank gaze to the crowd, evidently not knowing what he should do now. 

Their professor, on the other hand, did know. "This calls for a celebration," Professor Byleth announced. 

And a celebration they indeed had. Although not the victors of the contest, both the Black Eagles and Golden Deer were happy to participate in the festivities alongside the Blue Lions. Dorothea and Lorenz in particular did not appear dismayed by their loss; rather, they were later seen commending Prince Felix on his dancing, especially as a relative novice in the subject. Prince Felix, however, appeared as though he had been cornered and had been forced to listen to drivel. Dimitri would know because he kept watch of his highness's disgruntled features from the corner of his eye. 

Although elated he was by how people from other houses found the prince approachable enough to speak to him willingly, Dimitri did wish that Prince Felix would reciprocate the sentiment rather than shun it. Even this amount of tolerance that he exhibited wasn't enough. 

As the future king of Faerghus, his highness would eventually be cast under the limelight of court affairs. Everything was politics; everything required diplomacy. That was why Dimitri wished that the prince wouldn't yield so easily to his distaste and start developing a fortitude for communication. Prince Felix couldn't possibly hope that he could run away from it all when the weight of the crown would inevitably rest upon his head. 

Dimitri withheld a sigh. He...understood, though, on some level that recent events would make matters difficult to exert patience for. Nevertheless, they had been here in the academy for months now! Surely the regular exposure from their classmates and fellow students would have crumbled that wall of irascible antisocial behavior than chip it. Surely Annette's recent companionship would have warmed his cold heart!

Dimitri ignored the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that had emerged after that thought had entered his head.

"What troubles you, Dimitri?"

Dimitri was careful not to let his surprise shatter the glass in his hand. "Oh, Mercedes! Hello. Pardon me, but I did not see you approaching."

Mercedes smiled at him with eyes that were kind and patient as always. Dimitri had always appreciated that aspect about his classmate. He knew that the serenity and warmth that she exuded weren't attributed to every healer despite the underlying typecasting. After all, if that was the case, then wouldn't Linhardt be more proactive and Marianne less downcast? No, Mercedes truly was special in that regard. 

"It's quite alright. I couldn't help but come by after seeing the disquiet in your expression," she said. "Is something the matter?"

Dimitri paused, considering, and then admitted, "I suppose there is."

It was hardly a secret that Prince Felix and Dimitri butted heads, what with Prince Felix detesting the expectations made of him and Dimitri enforcing the expectations. Dimitri didn't want to restrain his highness like this, but he was his retainer; this was his duty. 

Ingrid shared his woes regarding their wayward prince, yet he had a feeling that she didn't grasp the magnitude of the ordeal. Granted, her understanding of political affairs within the castle was perhaps minimal, not that he faulted his friend for such. 

When Dimitri relayed his concerns to Mercedes, she gave a thoughtful hum. "I see what you mean, and your concerns are not unfounded," she said. Mercedes then smiled and patted his shoulder. "However, you must not need to fret so much. The way I see it, the prince is opening up in his own way."

Dimitri's eyes widened. "Whatever makes you say that?"

Her smile grew wider. "He went along with the professor's decision, didn't he?"


End file.
